A wizard is never late
by Fiia
Summary: "She knew why she had recognised him, and why she recognised his name. He was James bloody, fucking Potter. " Love is not easy. Especially not when you find yourself in love with a wizard. And when that wizard happens to be James Sirius Potter, you never know what consequences you might have to suffer.
1. Preface

**A WIZARD IS NEVER LATE**

**Preface**

The sky was clear of clouds and left the sun to really give them a taste of what the summer would hold. It shone warmly, but still there were some chilly winds sneaking through invisible holes in the outer garments of the children on the playground. They had lunch break, and the air was full of laughing and clattering of children. Sophie was angry. This morning she had been refused by her mother to wear the skirt she wanted, because her mother said it would be too cold. Now, Sophie felt a bit chilly, but nonetheless, she saw the other girls in her class standing on the other side of the playground and three of them were wearing skirts. She was too upset to play.

Lauren, one of the girls with a skirt on had tried to get her to join them, but she had refused. She regretted it a bit; they looked like they were having fun. But she had seen Lauren looking at her again more than once, and she was sure she would be invited again soon.

Her sight of the girls was momentarily blocked by a boy passing her. She recognised him as a boy from a year above her, although she couldn't remember his name.

"Where are you going?" She called promptly, because he was moving with strange determination towards the gates of the school area. No one was allowed to leave without their parents.

He turned around and gave her a once over. "I don't want to be in school." He said grumpily. "I don't _have too_, I'm not going here next year anyways. So I'm going home." He said confidently and shrugged.

"I don't want to be in school either." She said morosely. "I wish I could go home too."

He looked at her with his head cocked to the side. _Really_, she thought, he looked as if he had never combed his hair in his life. "You can." He suddenly said with a grin, after a moment of silence. "You could come with me."

She took a moment to pause and stared at him. "I can't!" She protested. "My mother would be very angry."

His grin changed, and he looked cockily at her. "Oh, you're _afraid_." He said, putting emphasis on the last word. "It's all right." He said then and blinked at her and moved to keep walking.

"I most certainly am _not_!" She said and pulled herself up from her sitting position and did her best to _not look_ afraid. "I'll come." She said, if only to prove herself to him and to wipe his stupid, know-it-all grin off his face.

He only nodded happily and nodded to the gates. "Come on then." He said smiling.

Before they started to move though, she put her hand out to him. "I'm Sophie." She said and looked him straight in the eye.

"I'm James." James said solemnly. "James Potter." He shook her hand, and then they walked together towards the gates.

She remembered holding her breath as they passed them, and releasing it only when she was sure no one had seen them. He brought her into the woods. She never could remember much more than that.

Her mother had been very angry with her when she had collected her later that afternoon at the Potter's house. She had been even angrier when Sophie had tried to put what she had experienced into words, or what she could remember of it. She dreamt about it sometimes. When her mother again asked her what they had been doing, playing was the only thing she could think of that would suit as an explanation. Because watching a flower grow from nothing in the ground, couldn't be anything other than her vivid imagination, right?

James had also been right. He hadn't gone back to school next year.

**A/N:** A few things for those who are interested. But first, a small disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Now, I do not have a Beta as it is. If someone feels like it, I would be so glad and you can contact me!

This story will be somewhere around 15 chapters long I think. I've got a plan laid out for it, and hope you will enjoy it! xoxo


	2. The idiot and the bike

**A WIZARD IS NEVER LATE**

**Chapter One: The idiot and the bike**

Sophie stood very still and quietly, straining her ears as much as she could.

"MUM!" She yelled again, louder this time and listened expectantly.

There was no answer. Birds were chirping, leaves rustling in the wind. But she was alone. Her mother had succeeded in losing her. Sophie was standing all alone in the forest where she had been driven, against her own will, to spend some quality time with her mother and her new husband. She felt the anger surge in her, and as an outlet she threw the wooden basket with berries to the side. She felt as if though she should scream. As quickly as her anger had seared though, it mulled down into a quiet irritated state of mind. When she felt she had calmed down enough, she tried thinking rationally.

They couldn't be very far off, could they? She remembered having seen them a while ago as she had been doing what they were supposed to be doing - picking the god damned blueberries. Her mother and Robert were flirting and kissing and doing a number of things that Sophie didn't include as appropriate when trying to befriend the daughter of the woman you married. They were by no means paying her any attention, except for the occasional exclamation from her mum "oh stop moaning, Soph! This is great!"

_Rule Number One, if you lost your friends in the forest – hug a tree._ Sophie could remember something like that from pre-school, although she figured the whole point of hugging a tree was to keep still and not wander around rather than actually hugging a tree. She settled with sitting down heavily on a large stone and arranged her face into an irritated frown as she waited for her companions to notice she was gone and come back looking for her.

Again, Sophie took out her phone from her pocket again, and checked it. Again, as it had been during the last quarter, there was no signal. She grumpily put it back.

She didn't really know how much time went by. She only knew that eventually she got extremely bored with sitting down, her bum had also started to ache, so she began picking up the blueberries that had fallen out when she had thrown the basket. It had been a rather childish move, she realized. She had spent the entire afternoon carefully picking them, and filling up half the basket even. For what? Throwing them all out again? Fortunately, only a small portion of her "blue forest treasure", as Robert solemnly had called them (for a while she thought she would barf out of disgust at how her mother's eyes had glowed), had ended up on the ground. She spent quite a while picking them up carefully as not to squish them and dropping them back into the basked one by one.

Suddenly, she heard steps behind her in the wood. _Finally_, she thought grumpily and felt the irritation she had been consumed by before – that had melted away during the task of the blueberries – regaining power. And in her haste to return to her former and very carefully arranged position on the stone, she fell over a branch on the ground. The instant pain of her right calf wasn't nearly as bad as the laughter that followed. It was a male laughter she realized, and thought for a second that it had been Robert who had laughed. She wouldn't put it past him. In his attempts to lighten things up between them, he laughed and joked about very inappropriate things – things her father and her never even spoke about.

She spun around rather ungracefully at the ground, shot off the angriest face she could possibly muster, and was faced with, not the face of her horrible step-father, but rather a boy. A boy she somehow recognized, but couldn't quite place.

He stopped laughing, or rather turned it into a chuckle, and looked at her. "Are you alright?" He called out; he wasn't as close as she had though.

He made a grimace as she soundlessly stood up and examined her leg; her jeans were torn and she was bleeding from scratch. She looked around and saw the guilty branch lying on the ground in front of her, as the boy came closer. He was rather handsome. He was tall. Sophie herself had always been called "tall for her age", until the day she finally stopped growing when people instead called her "tall for a girl", but he was quite a bit taller still. He had deep brown eyes, a smooth but pale skin and black hair that lay messily around his head. He could've spent hours fixing it, or simply rolled out of bed, she couldn't really tell. As she had been examining him, he come up in front of her; an offhanded grin wide across his face.

"Are you on your own?" He asked, looking around.

"Yes." She said grumpily, feeling rather embarrassed of having fallen and showing it with flushed cheeks. "It seems like it."

He cocked his head to the side with a confused frown.

"My mother seems to have lost me." Sophie added with a sigh and a roll of her eyes.

"Oh," he began, still confused, and maybe put off by the thought of a mother losing a child. "I'm sorry?" He added, grin returning.

She rolled her eyes again and picket up her basket. "Don't be."

"Are you lost?" He asked, and she decidedly did not like his confident and teasing smile that accompanied the question.

"No" she said forcefully. "I'm not _lost_. I was waiting to see if they were coming back, since they drove me here. But I guess I can walk."

"Do you live around here?" His tone was rather surprised. "I don't remember seeing you around." He said, still with his head cocked to the side a confident look on his face.

_Why are you so interested?_ She thought irritatingly.

"No, "she said again, growing rather tired with the interrogation. Why did she feel like a bloody criminal denying a crime? She did not like the way he made her feel. "I live in the village." She said.

"That's a long walk." He commented.

She made a non-commenting sound to not give any hint towards that she had absolutely no idea as to where she was going or even how long it would take.

"Well, I'm off." She announced loudly, deciding that she didn't care about _Rule Number One_ anymore. "I've got to get home so mum doesn't get worried." She did not want to be standing there feeling embarrassed, interrogated and nervous. Her leg hurt and she was annoyed with her mother. She could find her own way home, she decided. She began walking and passed him with a quick smile headed in the only direction she cared about – forward. She managed to walk several meters, before his voice reached her.

"That's the wrong way." He called and sounded as if he enjoyed himself _far too much_. As she slowly turned around, she could see that he was stifling a laugh.

Before, her cheeks had been flushed. Now, by the feel of it, they were stop-light crimson. She _hated_ feeling embarrassed. She turned around and walked towards him again prepared to mutter "thanks" as she passed him and then completely ignore him and hopefully, _hopefully_ walk away fast enough, _before_ he could figure out something to say. She was not prepared for the hand that stopped her when she was beside him.

"You are obviously lost." He said. "It is rather easy though, _if you know where to go_."

Perhaps the boy was fooling himself into believing that he was being kind, but Sophie could only see his teasing smile and cocky wink.

"Which you don't." He continued, ignoring her frown. "But I suppose it is your lucky day. I will give you a ride home."

_My lucky bloody day?_ She thought angrily. Being abandoned by her mother in the middle of nowhere and found by some overly-confident teenage boy was not what she considered lucky. Lauren would probably disagree vehemently. But Sophie knew what type of boy he was. Cocky and out for nothing more but a quick snog, or if he was lucky something more. The type of guy Lauren loved herself.

"It will take you several hours to walk home, you know." He added as he saw her angry face.

She considered this for a while and then swallowed her anger. She knew she wasn't really angry with him, although he did annoy her. It was her mother she was angry with. She took a deep breath.

"Alright." She said simply, and was rather thrown back by the huge grin that took place in his face when he heard it.

"This way." He said and nodded to her left.

They walked together silently for a while, he seemed to be humming something she didn't recognise. He didn't seem to be affected by their silence at all. She however, felt rather awkward. Being tormented with awkward silences during every dinner since Robert came to live with them, one would have thought she had gotten used to them. Instead, she found herself being extra sensitive to them.

Suddenly, she could see a road ahead of them. As they emerged from the wood, he tried to help her cross the ditch, but she walked past his hand and jumped herself. The road was brown and muddy from the rains that had fallen during the last week, she was glad she was wearing her rain boots. Sophie was even wearing a forest green raincoat, they had said on the weather the day before that heavy rains were to be expected. The road was straight as an arrow for as long as she could see, hardly a curve for at least two kilometres ahead.

He came after her a moment later, jumped easily across the ditch with the grin returned in full force. Sophie took a couple of steps and then saw a motorcycle parked on the side of the road; a huge, black, very dangerous-looking motorcycle. She stopped dead, and he passed her and went up to it. She almost dropped the helmet he threw at her.

"I thought you said you had a car!" She protested as she caught the helmet with fumbling hands.

"I didn't say that." He said, amused.

"Do you even have a driver's licence for that?" She asked suspiciously as he put his helmet on and mounted the bike.

He roared the engine to life, she almost had to cover her ears it was so loud, and pretended he hadn't heard the question. He grinned at her again. After a moment of hesitation, she put on her own helmet, cursing herself for her recklessness, and adjusted the band under her shin tightly. He hadn't wiped off his grin yet and was watching her expectantly. She swung her leg over the bike, held on to him for a second to ensure that she would not fall over and tried to look as if she had done this before while doing it. Then, she quickly scooted as far back on the seat as she possibly could and but her basket between him and her. She put her feet on the pair of pigs on each side.

"Are you ready?" He called over the noise of the engine. He didn't wait for her to answer, but slowly brought the motorcycle to a start. She didn't know where to put her hands, she realized as they started to move faster. They were currently holding the basket, which was not attached to anything!

"Wait!" She cried out, and then cursed herself. She could see his posture tense as he stopped and put his feet down on the ground. He looked back at her with an eyebrow raised.

"I don't even know your name." She spluttered, whilst trying to find somewhere to hold. She _refused _to hold onto him. Instead she found something solid behind her, a backrest that marked the end of the motorcycle. With one hand on the basket, and one behind her on the backrest, she felt more secure.

"Oh." He said meanwhile, still grinning. "James Potter, pleasure to meet you!"

James Potter, she thought. She remembered that name too. _But where?_ The look he was giving her, told her he was waiting for her name.

"Sophie." She said loudly and frowned, although she wasn't sure he could see it. Her helmet was pressing against her entire face and covered everything but her eyes and the bridge of her nose.

He nodded with a wink and pulled down his visor. She quickly did the same, and they were off. He started slow, but then quickly accelerated. She held on tight on the basket and the metal part that was probing her back. She could only, as the wind came as a never ending stream against her and the roar of the engine surrounded and deafened her, be glad she wore a helmet. They positively flew forward. As they well flew, she remembered. James Potter. She knew why she had recognised him, and why she recognised his name. He was _James bloody, fucking Potter_.

He suddenly turned to the left, onto a smaller road through an old gate. She had to release the basket in surprise and grab a hold of his shirt. She quickly let go. He had slowed down a bit, and soon she understood why. They were stopping in front of a large and old house. This only confirmed her suspicion. The Potters had lived a bit outside the village for as long as she could remember. She had even been here before, once. He pulled his helmet off and confidently and rather gracefully jumped off the bike. She took of hers too and looked at him angrily.

"I thought you said you were taking me to the village!" She said angrily, barely containing herself now that she knew who he was.

"I was. I am." James said quickly. "I just thought we should take care of your wound. It was still bleeding when we got out of the forest." He said and _almost_ pulled of a look of concern.

"I'm fine." She said through gritted teeth, although the leg was throbbing _and_ she could feel dried blood on her ankle. She stubbornly ignored the fact that he had bothered to look at her wound to see if it was okay.

"I'm sorry." He said looking a bit impatient. "I didn't mean to scare you."

He didn't give her any room to cut in and tell him that she was _definitely not scared_.

"I startled you and made you fall." James said, in the same tone. "I just want to make sure you are okay."

Realizing that he had begun to walk towards the entrance of the house, she understood that he was expecting her to follow. _Bloody arrogant git!_ She thought. He didn't ask if she wanted his help. He was simply arrogant enough to assume she wanted, or needed it. She had been right to be rude to him in the forest, and she was right to be rude to him right now. Always getting his way, running people over. _Idiot James Potter_.

By now, he had already opened the front door and walked inside. The house was really quite spectacular. It was a large, rectangular house in red English brick. Two stories high, it stood in a meadow surrounded by trees. The front door was large and old-looking in a kind of tree she couldn't identify. There were also four windows on each floor, two on each side of the front door. There was some ivy climbing the walls on the left corner, and framing the window at the bottom, and reaching towards the second floor.

Sophie didn't have much choice but to follow, however grumpily. She left the berries on the ground by the bike and went through the large front door. The insides of the house were as she remembered; a rather large entry with a wooden staircase to the right. The kitchen was through a doorway on the left, a bit ahead which she passed as she followed James to a room on the right instead. The parlour was large and took the entire left side of the house. It was furnished very cosily with several large sofas and armchairs placed around a fireplace. The walls were decorated with wooden panels and light wallpaper above it. Surprisingly there were no TV, there were only large bookshelves the entire wall that was put up between the hall and the parlour. The bookshelves were filled with old looking books, which she hardly thought could be used for anyone's enjoyment, she felt dreary only looking at them.

James stopped in front a large red sofa and looked expectantly at it.

"I'm not lying down." She said flatly.

He grinned mischievously at her and shrugged. "All right." He said. "But sit down while I fetch the plasters."

The plasters, she thought. He'd dragged her inside to get her a plaster. She looked down at her calf and grimaced. It seemed to have stopped bleeding, but it did look deeper than she originally thought. It hurt as well, throbbing angrily. She was just about to bend down to touch it when James appeared again, roaming through a red tin he was carrying. He kneeled behind her and pulled out some large white plasters normal people usually didn't have at home. They looked rather much like the ones you got at the hospital.

"All right, look straight in front of you." James said, and she could feel him carefully pulling at the two ends of the rip in her jeans, probably pulling them apart even more.

"It might be easier if you take your pants off." He said after a second of fiddling around.

Sophie spluttered and tried to turn around and glare at him, she could _hear_ the laughter in his voice, even though he hadn't laughed aloud.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, I was only kidding." He added jokingly, sounding very much like he had been very serious. When she finally managed to look down behind her, he winked, grinning like mad. She settled with mumbling under her breath.

She decided that she felt very uncomfortable in this position. She couldn't see what he was doing and his face was far too close to her bum for her comfort, in fact the whole situation was incredibly unnerving. Something felt rather strange though, for a second. She felt a slight tingle on her calf, but not uncomfortable in any way. In fact, as the tingle came and then abated, the pain had gone away with it.

"Do you feel any pain?" He asked; he had probably felt her stiffen.

"No." She said and paused for a second to see if she felt anything. "Not at all." She admitted.

As she looked back, she could see him put on one of those large hospital plasters and looking quite happy with himself.

"Good." James said, _sounding_ happy with himself even.

"What did you do?" She asked suspiciously.

"Oh, just a handy trick my dad taught me." James said. Sophie wondered if he was even capable of not grinning like he did now. "Are you ready to go?" The tin was gone from the floor, and wasn't in his hands either.

"Yeah." She said distracted as she looked around for it. She could suddenly feel her mobile buzz in her pocket.

She had five new messages and had missed eight phone calls, all of them from her mum. Quickly as they moved out of the house and towards the bike again, she wrote a curt text to her mother, assuring her she was on her way home. All of a sudden she felt rather good about being reckless and going on the back of a motorcycle. She put the phone back in her pocket and closed it with the zipper. Then she pulled on the helmet and placed herself behind James on the bike; again, with the basket in between, putting a healthy distance between them.

It roared to life and her stomach fluttered as it made its way along the Potter's road, and then turned to the larger road again. It didn't take long for it to turn into asphalt, and only a couple of minutes later did she see the village taking form in front of them. She could see several people looking after the bike as they sped past. She even thought she saw Lauren standing on the main square with Mary. She dearly hoped _they_ hadn't seen _her_.

Sophie had to instruct him where to go when they were all but on the other end of town. He slowed down as she shouted the directions in his ear and had to release the backrest and put her hand on his arm as she did so. When they finally arrived outside her house, and the engine's roar died, she finally felt herself relax. She took of the helmet with some difficulty and looked at him.

"Well, thanks for the ride." She said, not really sure what to say.

Sophie actually felt relieved when the front door opened and her mother came running out looking incredibly relieved herself. The engine roared to life again, and he sped off, with a wink directed to her mother, who looked at Sophie in bewilderment.

Sophie settled herself in the anger and irritation she had felt when realizing she had been abandoned in the woods, and walked straight past her mother into the house. Only when she got to her room did she realise she had his helmet with her.

HPHPHP

"So, when are we seeing Mr Biker Boy again, Sophie?" Robert said in what he probably thought was a teasing tone.

She rolled her eyes openly, despite the scowl that followed from her mother.

"Really, I didn't think _you_ would be that stereotypic. Such a classic case of teenage-girl rebellion." He continued and gathered their dinner plates into one pile.

"Well, I have to survive my mother's second marriage somehow." She bit back and put the milk in the fridge, before banging it shut.

"Sophie!" Her mother exclaimed, but Robert laughed. Sophie didn't find it particularly funny.

She hadn't quite forgiven them from abandoning her in the woods, two days ago. Despite her mother earnestly asking her forgiveness and saying that they 'almost called the police'. Her irritation suddenly flared again at his laugh. She could feel this was going to be another classic after-dinner fight. She didn't feel like fighting though. But when he made stupid jokes like that, and laughed falsely at them, she couldn't help herself.

"It's all right." He was saying shaking his head. "We're only joking around."

"I'm _not_." She muttered under her breath.

"Really Sophie, go to your room if you can't behave yourself." Her mother said, clearly not joking and sounding rather frosty to Sophie.

"I'm seventeen; you can't send me to my room anymore, mum." Sophie said frowning and put the dishes Robert had brought to the counter into the dishwasher.

She did it loudly, knowing how utterly unreasonable she was being, and how childishly she was acting. But she couldn't bring herself to caring. She was speaking the truth. She had to take out all of her feelings on them – they were the very reason for them.

"Watch me." Her mother hissed, irritated. "If you don't go right now…"

"Oh leave it, mum. I'm going." Sophie said bitingly, and stalked off, leaving the dishwasher half-full.

She went into her room. She grabbed the helmet that had been placed on top of her white bureau since he had left it with her. Sophie had considered whether he had left it purposely, so that she _had_ to come back and leave it, or whether he had actually forgotten to take it. Her ponders hadn't made her any more wise. But now it served as a perfect excuse the leave this house and let of some steam.

She tumbled down the stairs and loudly put her raincoat on, it was drizzling outside. She could hear her mother's steps come closer but managed to get the keys for her bike, open the door and get outside before she got in the hallway to stop her. Sophie did however hear her mother's "oh she is _impossible_!" before she slammed the door shut. She had unlocked the bike and got on it before her mother could even think of following her, and soon she was on the road.

The helmet was pressed into the bicycle basket on the handlebar. She supposed it did look silly to have a helmet with her but not actually using it. But it would look even sillier if she wore the heavy motorcycle helmet with her regular bike. Her hair was already damp and her breath came out as a pant when she left the village and started on the road she's been given a ride on two days past. It seemed much longer on the bike, and she had been going for at least twenty minutes before she came to the turn where the Potter's road began. It was even muddier than the last one, and her jeans – one of her favourite pair – would probably have spots of mud up to her knees when she arrived.

The house was finally visible, there seemed to be light pouring out of every window in the house. As she finally got to the front lawn she parked her bike next to the motorcycle, which in turn stood to a shiny black Audi, quite expensive-looking. Sophie was suddenly made aware of the possibility that the entire family might be home, and for the first time, she got second thoughts on her plan to return the helmet. But she couldn't come back home with it, she thought. Sophie conjured what courage she could muster and took a deep breath before knocking on the door.

There was a rustle inside, and a momentarily pause before the large door opened. A middle-aged woman stood in front of her, dressed in casual jeans and a simple grey t-shirt with Holyhead Harpies written on it. The flaming red hair told Sophie that this was James' mother. She looked exactly as she remembered her, there were maybe a few lines around her eyes that she didn't.

"Uh, hello Mrs Potter." Sophie began, and saw the confused look in the woman's face when she understood that Sophie knew her name but she didn't know Sophie's. "I'm here to see James." She added with a quick smile.

Mrs Potter's eyes dropped from Sophie's face down to her arms, where she was holding the black helmet. She seemed to understand something all of a sudden and stood aside, motioning for Sophie to come inside.

"He's in the kitchen, you can follow me." Mrs Potter said and walked further into the hall, but instead of turning right, as Sophie had two days ago when she had been with James, they turned left.

A very large room presented itself. Along the walls closest to the door there were cupboards, counters, a large fireplace and an antique looking wood oven. Further in to the room, there was a massive dinner table with room for at least fourteen people. She didn't have much time to look around though. Because at the table there were four people sitting looking expectantly at he when she followed Mrs Potter further into the room, and James in particular stared surprised at her. On the table there were pots and plates half-filled with food. She had obviously interrupted their dinner.

James gaze then dropped, as Mrs Potter's had, to the helmet in her arms. He quickly looked at his mother, who was eyeing him with an eyebrow raised.

"I was just going to return the helmet." Sophie said, while closely watching the interaction between mother and son. Had she seriously gotten James Potter into trouble? Something inside her did a somersault.

She stretched out her arm with the helmet in hand. He took it carefully.

"Oh, so you found it on the road then?" He asked quickly, giving her a pleading look.

Sophie considered what to say. He had been nice to give her a ride home and to help her with her wound even. She hadn't known what he'd done with her leg, but it had certainly worked. This morning she had taken of the patch, and found that there wasn't a single mark on her skin. But was it enough for her to forgive him?

"No." She said with a frown, staring daringly back at him. "You forgot to take it after you gave me a ride home."

A boy by the table sitting next to his father, and looking like an exact replica of him, laughed aloud. Sophie couldn't remember his name but she knew he was a year younger than her.

"Really James." Mrs Potter began slowly. "I remember you saying you hadn't used the motorcycle." Her words were polite, but the tone quite frosty and dry. Her eyes however, were glistening.

"Oh mum." James said, with a charming smile. "I think we've misunderstood each other _completely._ You asked if I had borrowed the motorcycle yesterday. I said I hadn't borrowed it." He paused for the effect. "Yesterday." He added. "We didn't discuss _any other day_, as I recall it. And I gave dear Sophie here a ride _two_ days ago."

"James." Mr Potter said, speaking for the first time. "I've said you can't use it until you've gotten a license." He sounded weary and like he was repeating something for the hundredth time. "You _know_ that."

James turned his charming smile to his father. "Yes, but rules father, can be bent when the situation calls for it." He began and looked at Sophie, and tried to dazzle her as well with his infuriatingly arrogant smile. He stood up, and to her complete horror, put an arm around her shoulder. "As it happens, this young lady was in quite distress when I found her wandering, all alone_, lost in_ the woods. I was merely _helping_ her getting home."

The girl at the table, with as fiery red hair as her mother snorted out loud as she took another bite of her food. Sophie immediately took a step to the side, released herself from his arm and opened her mouth to protest. But James, probably seeing and sensing this, continued.

"This should be considered the gentlemanly, nay! the right and _only_ thing to do. Wouldn't you agree?" He said and had a way of letting the dramatic words sounding less pompous and well, rather fit for the situation. Sophie then and there realized that apart from his _charming_ smile, James Potter was a smooth talker.

James, perhaps sensing that he hadn't quite convinced his toughest crowd – that being his parents – continued. "She was even wounded when I found her." He added with a final tone to his voice, sounding as if he had played his ace.

"Only because you made me fall." Sophie said irritatingly. She didn't like the way he portrayed her as some defenceless girl. "But" She admitted grumpily. "I want to thank you for that too. I don't know what you did, but this morning the wound was completely gone. Not even a mark! So, well, thank you."

As she spoke, she hadn't realized that his parents before rather joking attitude had changed into a rather sombre one. James even looked a little nervous, running his hand through his hand. His younger sister was even gaping at him.

"Did he now?" Mrs Potter said, rather tightly.

Sophie had no idea what she had said that had gotten James into trouble, but she couldn't help the smile that threatened on her lips as she realized it. James was looking at her, and she allowed the smile to blossom. He got a rather peculiar look on his face; for once his grin vacant, he looked puzzled, as if something about her puzzled him. It only lasted for a second, because later his grin had returned full force, dimming hers.

Sophie nodded, although Mrs Potter didn't see it. She was busy piercing James with a dead cold stare. "And I was _not_ in _distress_." Sophie added, glaring at James as well.

"Well, you're grounded, James." Mr Potter said and looked at his son.

James looked at him, unfazed by the information and then turned to me, and then lost his grin. "Thanks a lot." He said, frowning. "You really returned the favour." He didn't sound mad, or annoyed, he simply stated the fact.

"You're welcome." She clipped and looked at her waterproof wristwatch. "I really should be going." She said then.

"Why don't you like me?" He suddenly asked, still frowning.

Sophie gaped at him, embarrassed that he was asking her that in front of his entire family. The only thing she could think of saying was a pathetic "What?"

"You don't like me." He stated again, raising his eyebrows, obviously not going easy on her.

She took a moment to think, without breaking the eye contact they had.

"You do know that we've met before, right?" Sophie said, not giving away any more information than necessary.

He looked incredibly surprised and looked quickly at his mother and the rest of the family, who seemed equally surprised. "We have?" He asked, dragging a hand through his hair. "When?" _Did he sound nervous?_ He should, she concluded.

"Well," she said, adding a pause for effect, copying his rhetoric skills. "If you can't remember, it can't be that important, can it?"

The girl at the table was giggling, and Mr and Mrs Potter looked rather amused again, she noted with happiness. Before James could say anything, she turned to Mrs Potter.

"Mrs Potter, I'm so sorry for interrupting your dinner. I really have to get going." She said and smiled genuinely at her. Mrs Potter stood to follow her to the door. "I can find my own way out, thank you." She added politely. She turned around, and as she passed James who was looking confusedly at her with his hand in his hair she said "Bye Potter" and went out into the hallway. As she left the house and got on her bike, she wondered why her hands were shaking.


End file.
